


Will

by fightforyourwrite



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Talks of the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7065703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightforyourwrite/pseuds/fightforyourwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Willard Darwin Rowan has a talk with his young assistant, Lucas Elliott, about his past as they sit on a Canalave City bench.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will

**Author's Note:**

> Most of my fics tend to be headcanons expanded upon, and this one is no exception. This is a expansion and development on a few headcanons: 
> 
> \- Rowan can talk to Lucas almost like a son, since he never had any children of his own.  
> \- Rowan was married in the past.  
> \- Lucas has a high aptitude for mathematics. 
> 
> So... have fun reading this. I've actually been in a bit of a writing dry spell as of lately, so I hope this isn't too terrible.

Professor Willard Darwin Rowan sits with his arms crossed. In a rhythmic fashion, his fingers on his right hand drum against the elbow on his left arm. It is a habit of his, he only ever does it when he needs to think. Rowan figures that it had all stemmed from his days at University; he had habitually drummed his fingers against the wood of his table in whichever lecture hall he had to be inside that day. It stimulated his mind, constantly keeping him alert and observant no matter what.  

The sun in Sinnoh's sky keeps the western atmosphere a bright blue. But in spite of the sunshine, the air in the area is still fairly chilly, a typical trait of Sinnoh's weather. Every breath Rowan takes causes a puff of smoke-like fog to escape from his mouth. It almost reminds him of his younger days, when he was a little less smart and thought that smoking cigarettes made him look 'cool.'  

Around this time of year, the sun is quite rare to the Sinnoh skies. Most days only ever give the residents two or three hours of sunlight before the region would be cast into another dark night. Many believe that it is worth it to go outside in the sunlight while it lasts.  

Sinnoh's sun is a wonder of nature to him. Even in a region so cold, anyone can feel the sun shining upon their face, even if it's not as warm as they anticipate it to be. 

After being out of Sinnoh for so long, Willard had forgotten how little the sun would be seen in his own native region. As he sits on one of Canalave City's communal benches, he looks up at the sky with a content look in his eyes.  

Turning his head to the side, Rowan decides to spare a glance over to his assistant. Similar to him, the young boy known as Lucas Elliott is affixing his eyes upon the world around him. The look he has shows a similar sense of fondness, just like Rowan's.  

The Professor notices that his assistant is focused on the sky as well. But instead of focusing on the neverending horizon in front of them, or even the sun shining so bright, Lucas has his young eyes focused on something else. There's a group of wild Staravia and Starly soaring through the air, crossing the sky with the power of their wings.  

With watchful eyes, Lucas observes as the Starling Pokemon flap their wings powerfully and thrust themselves through the atmosphere with a kind of serene grace.  

"You seem to be staring at those quite intently, Lucas," Rowan brings up. "Are you into bird Pokemon at all?"  

Turning to the Professor, Lucas looks at him in a quizzical fashion. "Birds? Well, in a way, yes. But in another way, no." He glances back to the sky, keeping his gaze on the Starly and Staravia until they get small, looking like little black specks amongst and sky's endless blue.  

"I just think that the concept of flight is amazing. Just a little over a hundred years ago, it was a prospect that was thought to be impossible. But now, physics and science has made flight an act that human beings can accomplish every day. It's just fascinating how much physics plays a part in our every day lives. Don't you agree, Professor?"  

"Of course," Rowan affirms, nodding his head. "So it's physics that you're interested in then?"  

Lucas nods his head in a joyous fashion and turns back to his employer, "Yes, Professor. It's exactly that. Mathematics as well. It's amazing how there's equations and formulas for everything. Can you imagine?"  

Rowan hums deeply and nods to himself. Lucas Elliott has been one of the most interesting youths he had met ever since returning to Sinnoh. There is definitely a reason why Lucas is able to work at his laboratory at such a young age, and it is definitely not because he has nothing else better to do.  

If Rowan can recall, he remembers seeing something interesting in Lucas's file, a collection of documented information that he requires from all of his employees.  

In the box labelled 'additional notes,' the text had mentioned something about Lucas's skills in abstract mathematics. Something about him having a natural aptitude for the subject was mentioned, along with him showing signs of his grasp at a rather young age.  

It did not state how high that aptitude was, but for a boy no older than 16, it was definitely quite an interesting to see.  

"That's quite accomplished of you, Lucas," Rowan claims. "To have such a fondness for something at your age." 

Lucas lets out a chuckle riddled with a nervous energy. He starts scratching the back of his neck, "Uh... I really woudn't call myself accomplished, Professor. That's kinda pushing it."  

Rowan raises an eyebrow. He takes in a breath and stops drumming his fingers. "Interesting, Lucas." 

In response to his words, the young boy looks confused, "Hm? What?" 

"You're too modest with yourself," Rowan states. He starts scratching his chin. "I've noticed that about you." 

Lucas gives him an apprehensive expression, "You have?" 

"Yes, I have," Rowan claims. He straightens out his back and turns his shoulders just enough to face his assistant properly. "It's interesting. You push down genuine compliments that people put in your direction in an attempt to seem humble, when really, it's because you're much too hard on yourself."  

The boy is left blinking. Rowan's words leave a certain kind of impact on him. He's left unsure on how to react properly. He simply stares at his elder with a certain look on his face that is similar to how a Stantler looks when caught in the headlights of a person's car.  

Eventually, after a few seconds of hesitance, Lucas musters up the will to speak. "Okay, so maybe I am... I guess it's easy to tell, huh?"   

Professor Rowan shakes his head. It's quite effortless to tell that the topic makes Lucas anxious. "It is, but you shouldn't worry about it."  

"Why shouldn't I?"  

"Because," Rowan starts off. "I was a lot like you when I was your age."  

Lucas seems skeptical, as he has an eyebrow arched, "Really? You were awkward and hard on yourself and 3 inches too short when you were my age?" 

Rowan lets out a single chuckle, partially amused. "To be fair, I was awkward as well, but I was never considered short." 

Lucas scoffs, looking down at the ground and upon the waters of the Canalave channel. "Lucky you, Professor..." What else could he have expected from a man who is over six feet tall? 

"But I was hard on myself," Rowans adds on, making sure to emphasize on that one detail the most. "When I failed in an endeavor, I would let it eat away at me for the longest time. And whenever people complimented me, I would push down their words and tell them that they were wrong. Not because I was trying to be humble, but because I did not believe that I was worthy of any praise." 

"But you're not like that now," Lucas claims, taking note on a certain aspect. As far as he could tell, Professor Rowan accepted accolades in the same way he reacted to everything else, in a fashion that was nothing else but stern and professional.  

It is hard to imagine a man like Willard Rowan getting flustered at every compliment thrown in his direction.  

"Yes, that is true," Rowan agrees. He has not been hard on himself in years. Though, that can simply be because there are other things in his life that he has to focus on. 

"What made you stop?" Lucas asks. He takes his eyes of the channel to look back at his employer and senior.  

Rowan doesn't reply right away. For a second, the Professor stops and lets himself think. He looks over to the other buildings of Canalave City, then up to the blue sky and the wild Starly and Staravia that fly through it. It's a wonderful sight to see, pretty birds and pretty colours.  

"There wasn't anything that made me stop right away," Rowan starts. He crosses his arms and starts drumming his fingers again, "Though, I think that I tried to stop being hard on myself after I met my wife."  

Willard Rowan lets out a sigh. He looks down and lets his thoughts collect themselves for a moment or two. For him, forgetting his wife would be near impossible because in all the time that she had been with him, she had been the most important person in Willard's life.  

The words of his assistant snap the older man out of his thoughts.  

"Your wife?" 

Rowan nods his head and lets out a hum, "Yes, her." 

"What was here name?" 

"Irina."  

It is clear that from the hesitancy in his employee's words that the topic of his wife doesn't pop up to often. Rowan doesn't mention her often for certain reasons. Frankly, he is fine with that, but now, looking into the eyes of his young assistant, Willard Rowan realizes just how much he wants to speak of her. He realizes just how much he had been bottling it up inside of him.  

He wants to tell Lucas all about Irina, how he had met her on a sunny day in Amity Square, how she met him just because he commented on how healthy her strolling Munchlax appeared to be. It felt like a whole other life to him because everything in his existence had been so different back then. Willard Rowan was merely a university student in his final year, his hair was thicker and his bones were stronger and he only ever let people call him _'Will.'_  

It was interesting to think that he was lucky enough to have a woman like Irina even enter his life in the first place.   

She made his existence seem brighter than it was. In the halls of the university, people looked at Will and called him stuffy and aloof. He spent his time alone working, coming up with dissertations and reports to earn the doctorate he had set out to get. Will had spent more time getting down on himself for his imperfections then spending time with his class and workmates.  

Then there was Irina, a woman who looked at him like a choir sang every time she glanced in his direction. She laughed at his dry remarks and thought that he was one of the handsomest guys in all of Sinnoh. At the time, Irina was a student as well, a woman on the path to becoming a scholar like him. Though, she was more interested in Pokemon Biology than simply Evolution.  

After they had met, they had spent hours in the uni's laboratories learning what could from each other, spending all their time talking about all the theories and facts that they could.  

It felt like just yesterday that he was holding her hand as they walked around Hearthome City, admiring every sight that they could. It was weird for him to admit that he hadn't even held her hand on over 5 years.  

Bringing himself back to reality, Rowan closes his eyes and lets his head hang low on his neck. Missing her is a chronic feeling to him now, even after all these years.  

"What was she like?" Lucas asks his elder.  

"Hm?" The older man opens one eye and directs it over to his assistant. 

"What was your wife like?"  

"She was…" Rowan starts off. He opens both his eyes and glances towards his assistant. "…amazing. She pushed me to be a better person. I don't believe I would be the man I am today if it hadn't been for Irina."  

The remark prompts a smile onto Lucas's face. It's warm and softened by the words of his elder. "I figured so."  

"She was one of the most important people in my life," Rowan adds. "While she was alive, that was."  

"Do you miss her?" 

"Everyday."  

It hurts him to think about the fact that she's gone. It hurts to think about the fact that all their years together had been cut short because of an accident, all because of a drunk driver who couldn't see straight at that one exact moment. 

Rowan looks down at his left hand and stares at his empty ring finger for a longing moment. He hasn't worn his ring in years. If his memory serves, the ring is in a box inside his dresser, constantly kept hidden underneath the clothes that used to belong to her, untouched and unused for years and years.   

"You loved her a lot, didn't you?" Lucas says, sympathetic to the state of mind of the professor. 

"More than I ever thought I could," Rowan responds. He focuses his gaze towards his hands and balls the left into a fist.  

Tension focuses itself inside of his limb, pulsing at first, then suddenly tightening with every second. But then, Rowan lets go and relaxes his limb. He takes his mind and his attention off his hand and turns back to his assistant.  

"Well, Lucas, I think we've been sitting here for long enough, don't you agree? I believe some refuelling would be required at the moment."  

Lucas appears to agree and checks the leather trench watch on his right wrist, "That's a pretty good idea, Professor. I think we might've passed a coffee shop a block or two back. Shall we?"  

Rowan nods his head and stands up onto his feet. He rebuttons his trench coat and fixes one of the fastenings on his waistcoat. "We shall. You lead the way, Lucas."  

Once Lucas gets himself off the bench, he and his elder take small steps down the Canalave streets. They don't speak, they make their strides in silence, thinking about the words just said and what they mean.  

Rowan feels just a bit different now. There is a part of him, a part that he has not acknowledged in a long time, that he can feel once more.  

It is as if, just for one moment, he was not Professor Willard Darwin Rowan, world-renowned researcher. He was Will Rowan, a university student approaching the peak of his life and ready to take on the world ahead of him.  

He hasn't felt like Will Rowan in a long long time.  

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to get myself back into the swing of things. I've been out of writing ideas for a while. Maybe I'll write more fics about the protags having mentor-protege relationships to characters they aren't related to by blood, like Diantha and Serena, or Cynthia and Dawn. I dunno, we'll see.
> 
> Anyway, if you liked it, as always, feel free to tell me what you thought!
> 
> k' bye!


End file.
